Leo’s nickname changes based on what ridiculous things he is up to.
He started out a tiny baby, all swaddled up and looking like a certain item on a Mexican menu, so we called him Leo Burrito (and his side dish, Rocco Taco).
Then he entered the oral phase of life, chewing on/eating everything he could, so he became The Goat. “Hey guys, look what The Goat is eating now—do you think he’ll get electrocuted?”
There were other names. Baby Pterodactyl, Guy Smiley, The Narcoleptic, Wounded Soldier, Captain EO, and when he’s sick either Crusty the Clown or Snotface Snotlout.
Next up came Baby Putin. That name came during the Olympics when Leo entered into a particularly tyranty phase of life and developed opinions about absolutely everything. All of these opinions, of course, were “NO!” We couldn’t do, eat, or even think about anything without first asking Leo if he wanted to do, eat, or think about that thing first. It was a fearful time for all.
Leo’s newest nickname is Pocket Dictionary, which you’ll understand if you go anywhere with him for awhile. He will put on his “goots” then walk outside with you saying, “Out…hide…Mom…hand.” At the crosswalk he yells, “COC COC ITE!” to point out the extreme awesomeness of the flashing crosswalk lights. Then he spies Kevin and yells, “TAZE DADDY!” until Kevin fakes being electrocuted.
There is one nickname that has followed Leo from the moment he was born, and that one is “Sweet Baby Leo.” Of course, I used to use that moniker tenderly but now I use it ironically, probably in the same way Mrs. Putin used to call her son “Sweet Baby Vlady.”
Why does it make me so nervous to put a Putin joke on the Internet?